Wendigo
by hazelbite1248
Summary: After the University, before The Scarecrow. He could always count on her to be there. But down the road, Crane's going to learn just what she's done for him. What she left behind, what she had to do when he was gone and what she's now capable of. Only traces of her remain, she's a devil, an evil that devours, the inhumanity of Gotham. She is, The Wendigo.
1. Chapter 1

Wendigo  
disclaimer: I do not own Batman the animated series or any of its characters except my own. I do not own quotes and moments from other movies or TV shows that this stories may contain. I do not own any of the songs that are played in this story. Please ask me first if you wish to use the characters I created.

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**hazelbite1248: Hello readers. It's been a while since I showed myself with a story. I've gotten a lot of encouragement from others to go on with a Batman tas story that I had been meaning to write. And... here we are :|**

**I'd like to thank those readers for said encouragement. It's gunna be a little different with how this story will work. Besides the darker turn to this story, I'm posting this prologue and going to see how the readers think of this, then go bit by bit with the chapters. I'm sorry if they won't be constant updates like the everyday stuff I did with TFA, but this is a very new fanfiction and I am literally typing it down by the chapter. **

**Without anything else to share, here goes something. Enjoy :)**

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**::WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND GORE. READERS BE WARNED::**

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Prologue:

Jonathan Crane wasn't one to be easily frightened. After all, this was the Scarecrow. The terror of Gotham, the god of fear, he made the most potent formula of fear toxin from here to Metropolis for heaven's sake. So why couldn't he shake off this unsettling feeling?

Crane did pride himself on how well he would conceal his emotions to his face and body language. To be level-headed in the most pressing environments whither it was with others or with his work on his chemicals. Jonathan Crane was not scared easy. He could not get scared easy.

It was only supposed to be a simple run to his old lab the first time he faced the Batman. The chemicals, the notes for the chemicals, they were too important to leave there. Just thinking about if some average idiot got a hold of them. God forbid, threw them out; it made Jonathan more driven to retrieve them.

But the minute he and his group of henchmen set foot in the old plant, there was a shift in the atmosphere. Scarecrow could see in his henchmen the hint of fear in their eyes. Irritated, Crane saw a opportunity to further investigate. He could tell from the air that no leaks of his fear gas were present. Something else was causing this to his men.

As Crane and his team went further in the dark building, Crane thought it would be prudent that they would split up. For the purpose of Jonathan, and to the relief of the other men that they can get the job done faster and leave. So from his group of him plus seven henchmen, Crane was walking through the dim lit hall with two other men carrying their firearms.

Thinking further about it, Scarecrow brought back the memories where this place wasn't always so dark and depressing as it was now. Believe it or not, Scarecrow could vividly remember when the plant was warm and full of life. Despite when he was tripping over road block after road block, he could count on his sacred laboratory to give him a net to fall upon.

He could always count on _her_ to be there too.

"H-hey boss? Maybe we should g-get the loot another day." One of his henchmen stammered on his words with earned him a glare from the man in straw. Since the other man left early, it was just him and the lone henchmen.

"You're not getting _scared_, are you?" Crane flatly asked, amused to the shaking henchmen. Knowing that he had made his point when the man went silent, Scarecrow continued his walk to the corner of the hallway. Little did he know at the blink of an eye, one swift movement took the one henchmen in the dark.

No sound, only the_ 'whoosh'_ of air by how quick the movement was. The man didn't have enough time to even scream.

"We're getting closer, you take the tanks while-" Scarecrow observed the end of the hallway, but cut off his own sentence when he realised he was alone. Growling at the incompetence of his fear-filled helpers, he gave himself the job of getting both the notes and chemicals.

Walking down the long corridor, an open door caught his masked eye. Crane knew that he was on a schedule, get what was needed and go. No stops, no questions, no back-talk from the henchmen. Okay, so the plan was going to have some complications. The notes and chemicals were going to take some time, his mind was questioning whither to proceed with this door. And he couldn't hear back-talk from any of his team if they're weren't any at all.

Jonathan Crane went with his gut and moved towards the entrance of the dark room. Struggling to find a light source, he let his eyes adjust to the black surroundings. Crane did detect a different smell to this room but he couldn't put his finger on it. Now that his eyes could better find the switch, he reached for light and the room flashed with a bright vision of the area.

Crane was close to wish he hadn't

Right away, the light shimmered on the red blood on the walls and floor of the room. The bones and flesh clustered and scattered across the area made Scarecrow realise why he smelled the strange scent before. It was the iron, metal scent of blood that even painted part of itself to some of the ceiling. Crane had to recover from the shock that had stunned his senses and body from the time being.

Mostly because of the reason that he didn't smell the rot of the bodies. Bringing Crane to the thought that this was made more recently then he wanted to believe. Crane covered his gloved hand to cover the opening to his mouth from the burlap mask he wore. Leaving his eyes that were wide open, absorbing all that he was seeing.

And then he heard it.

The distorted, monstrous shriek that echoed in the closed area that caused Jonathan to snap out of his daze. He then came up with the conclusion that an animal must have made his precious plant as a home. And with what he was observing, this was its kitchen. That meant that if he wanted his limbs with him, he needed to find what he was looking for and fast. After that, for lack of a better term, he needed to get the hell out of there.

Crane didn't think of his missing henchmen when he was racing through the building. He didn't think of the fresh blood belonging to them either. All that was going through his mind besides getting his chemicals and notes, was what was capable of causing that bloodbath. No wild animal in the area of Gotham was large enough to drag a full-grown man and accomplish in mauling them to bits.

Scarecrow had finally made it out of the corridor and into the open area of the main room. Light leaked around the large area so it made it easier to Crane to assemble his notes. Silently counting if all the papers were with him, a crooked smirk was shaped due to how the masked was formed on his face. Scarecrow put down all of his accounted for papers with satisfaction and put them aside.

Now it was time to grab his chemicals. Jonathan grabbed a nearby vile to hold the small sample he was going to get away with. Of course he planned to take all the tanks with him but with the lack of man power to carry them, Crane agreed to settle with the small amount and simply duplicate the chemical.

Scarecrow would have filled the tiny vile with his toxin, if he didn't notice the large tear on the metal tanks.

"No animal could have made this." Crane came to realise when he further inspected, trailing his fingers on the ripped tearing of metal. He was able to think of what kind of power would have sliced through the four tanks that were side by side. Killer Croc was out of the question because he was firmly kept in Arkham courtesy of the Batman.

_Batman_. That name gave Crane a twinge of anger just thinking about it. It was because of Batman that he was forced to leave the plant. It was because of Batman that he hasn't seen_ her_ since it happened. All he had concerning _her_ was his memories.

Crane walked away from the tanks to quiet his mind. On his fifth stride however, his hearing spiked when he thought he heard a low growl. Or maybe growl was the wrong way to put it, the sound itself was far too low to be a growl. What came to mind was that horror movie he heard about with that strange, pale girl who often crawled.

Slowly turning his costumed body, Jonathan saw in disbelief that something was moving in one of the tanks.

He didn't move, he didn't speak. Crane was sure that he wasn't breathing. He stared in disturbed horror as something was crawling out of the one tank. He didn't understand. By the look of it, the gas from those tanks should have been long gone. Meaning that what Jonathan was witnessing was real, without the illusion of the fear toxin. Knowing this, Jonathan hadn't been this close to feeling natural fear in a very long time.

Jonathan wanted to run, fight whatever this thing was. Turn around and take himself away from this monster as far as his thin legs could take him. Despite all of this, he couldn't look away from the thing dragging its body in such a deformed way out of the tank.

While Crane was staring at it, he could tell a little better what it was. Judging by the build of it, Jonathan knew she was female. Her black hair was a complete mess but still managing to cover her entire face down to her lower waist. When the woman made her way out of the tank, she straightened her arms to pick herself up from the cold floor.

"Get _back_." Scarecrow's feet were starting to follow the brain's commands and was moving backwards. Step by step, Jonathan moved farther away but his back was met by the nearby wall. Growling in pain when his head hit the wall, he noticed that the woman was now fully standing. Walking toward him.

"I said get back this instant!" Scarecrow shouted. Just the way she was walking delivered uncomfortable shivers to Crane. Like she was limping, with every step she took, her arms swaying slowly beside her.

Jonathan moved his gaze to see her head. Although most of her black hair moved from her face, all that he could see was a slit of unnaturally white skin down to her jaw line. Stained with a red substance that Crane didn't want put much attention to. Or the same substance that made itself known all over her ripped clothing.

Whoever this woman was by the looks of her, Jonathan thought that she might have gotten mauled herself. Bloody jeans, a shredded leather jacket. He narrowed his eyes to focus on her features, especially when he could see the woman's eyes.

They were grey, just like _her's_.

"Who are you?" Scarecrow gave his question to the dark-haired woman who was getting closer to him. When she didn't answer, Scarecrow decided to ask another.

"You're the one that's been making a mess in my laboratory?"

The eyes of the woman slightly widened at the sound of the question. The side of her mouth curled slightly to show what Crane could make out was a smile. Like she knew more to the answer of the question.

_"Yessss... and no."_ Her voice slurred in a hissed whisper. The eye contact from the woman to Jonathan's eyes did not waver. She was looking through his burlap mask

"_What_ are you?" Crane corrected himself to the women now right in front of him. What surprised Crane was that she wasn't doing anything. He was backed to the wall, had no means of fighting back, at the complete mercy of her. But during the entire time, she did nothing. Just, _staring_ at him.

Like this woman was trying to remember Jonathan.

_"Inhuman."_ Scarecrow brought his attention out of his thoughts to hear what she had to say. The rest of the woman's hair that covered her face now trickled down to reveal the pale face of the woman.

It didn't shock Jonathan that her skin was unnaturally white. It didn't shock Jonathan that her around her mouth was red, stained blood. Neither the torn clothes she wore didn't shake his surprise then the face that was behind the black tangles.

It _was her._ But it was what she said after that delivered Jonathan Crane to fear the worst for her.

"I am Wendigo."

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**hazelbite1248: Well that's the first chapter / prologue thing. If I get enough reviews, favourites or anything like that from this I'll continue with this story. Hope you readers like this different turn I have taken with a story. Bye :)**


	2. Chapter 2: First Impressions

Wendigo  
disclaimer: I do not own Batman the animated series or any of its characters except my own. I do not own quotes and moments from other movies or TV shows that this stories may contain. I do not own any of the songs that are played in this story. Please ask me first if you wish to use the characters I created.

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**hazelbite1248: Hello kind readers, I feel extremely bad about how late this update is. I guess tech problems just love to make things difficult for myself. More apologies to you all. On the other hand, I got enough time to post this chapter and hope no other problems occur. And without any other comments, here is the first official chapter :)**

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Chapter 1: First Impressions

2 years ago:

Gotham was harboring a clear night, much to the rarity of that type of weather in a place like that. Still the skies covering the dark city were showing the light of the stars, when the people were not blinded by the city's lights themselves.

Out of all the scattered "Gothamites" walking in the late night streets, one individual casually entered the alleyway. Away from most of the eyes around.

The woman's figure reflected through the puddles in the damp alley. Her long hair, blue jeans and brown leather jacket gave the water at her feet image. But none of that grabbed the attention of this woman.

Her grey eyes were deep in her own thoughts.

_Flashback:_

_In the dead of night, where no sounds made an echo in the mansion halls, the large house home to three was silent. Until that night however, it was going to be only home to two._

_A young woman carefully stepped through the hallway, shadowing herself in the dark. Making every point and mental mention to stay low and quiet. She had one shot, one._

_This was the only time, the only window of opportunity she could possibly get to her goal. A goal to freedom, from a family binding her down and drowning her with a life she didn't want._

_As the sixteen year old girl stopped to silently collected herself, she leaned part of her weight on a part of the nearby wall that wasn't clustered with expensive art. Not bothering to look if it was even art or just painted family portraits. Wiping the small leak of tears off her eyes, she then gingerly placing her hand on her lower stomach._

_The young girl wouldn't lie to herself, after everything that happened. With her parents and herself. From the more farthest places of her mind, she would dare to think that she was scared to take this jump. Out from her privileged life, a life of shining possessions and lights of a house that could fit ten families._

_But she could never forgive them. The innocent, guilty or the demons that have set foot in the jail that this woman would have called her home a long time ago._

_Or never again call home, as the she stood up from the wall and continued to walk out those polished doors._

End flashback:

It didn't matter to her that those memories were many years past her, it wasn't even thinking about it that would bring her pain and suffering. It was when it would play through her eyes that was the hardest for the woman.

She learned a lot back then. Relying upon herself over the years. She would keep steady jobs and stay on the good side of the city for a while. Despite this, anyone living in Gotham City on their own would never stop learning new things. Important lessons to keep one alive until the next few weeks or day.

The woman pulled the side fringe of her black hair aside as she came out of the tunnel-like alley. Bringing the beaming lights to her attention from the larger stores. She realized that she was close to Gotham's University.

The woman was crossing the road when she took into notice of the other people on the side-walk she was getting to. More precisely, the family that was observing a store from the outside window.

When she was on the sidewalk herself, the woman stayed where she was to better see the family of three. The mother wearing a coat that shimmered in the lights, was holding her smiling daughters hand who wore a large coat of fur that matched her hat. The father from what the woman could see had his arm around his wife and a happy smile of his own.

For the second that the woman watched, a kind smile greeted itself to her lips. Witnessing the rare happiness of people in the city publicly was not a thing one saw everyday. Not every family had moments like this, for others to see.

Her own family would almost never have any at all.

Flashback:

_That same night, the young woman continued to prowl the dark hallway of marble floor. Until she made it to her goal and came upon a single, solitary painting hanging on the large wall._

_She didn't dare make a sound when she handled the detailed border and gently set it to the soft carpet near. Using every measure to keep herself quiet until she was out of the house and out of her parents lives._

_However behind the painting, light shone on the silver steel of a hidden safe. She delivered a voiceless sigh in celebration of her memory and went to work._

_Robbing her parents was not her intentions, nor was it in reality taking her own trust funds. Unfortunately for this girl of sixteen, her memory was long as it's contents were with a painful vengeance._

End flashback:  
The woman cleared her throat in an attempt to shake off the upcoming memories. She didn't want to think of her past all at once. She didn't want to think of why she didn't want to.

"Come on girl, think positive." The woman reminded herself. Looking on how much she had grown from the streets up, there was not one time where she let anyone keep her down. Not her parents, no matter how many times they found her, no one.

So the woman straightened her back, moved her black-haired head high and entered another dark alleyway.

Minutes passed and the woman's footsteps was the only sound that bounced off the brick walls. The small chime of the buckles strapped to her long, slender boots. The tapping of her feet to the wet ground with every stride she took.

Until her hearing spiked when the sounds of rustling, splashing that were not from her. What she could also pick out was the hushed, muffled voices of a group of men.

The woman knew well enough what those noises together meant.

It wasn't uncommon for thugs to come into the picture in Gotham. Neither it was when they would take what they wanted from the defenseless.

Now this woman was smart, at least enough not to barrel into something and interrupt the wrong people. But she did have a sense of honor.

Whoever would go below that honor and prey on the weaker, it only justified for her to step into the situation.

Following the source of the ongoing fight, the woman gradually stormed until she turned the corner and saw a number of shadowed men.

"Release me at once! Don't you know who I am!? Get your hands off me you uncultured swines!" A voice hollered from what the woman heard was coming from the middle of the group of men. Action was calling to the woman witnessing all of this.

"Sorry Professor, class's dismissed." She heard one of the men retort while she visually crept along the wall, becoming the shadows. As that same man drew his fist back to prepare a crashing blow, the woman launched to catch the man's arm and tug it behind him in a painful angle. Then ramming two knuckles to an exposed area of the mans shoulder.

That same man howled in pain from the nerve blow that gave the woman enough time to deliver another precise hit to the nerves on the back of his neck. He slumped to the ground knocked out and the woman could see the infuriated anger from the other thugs in their eyes to her.

"You dumb brat, oh you're going to pay for that." One of the other man with a bad tattoo on his face growled to the woman. At the corner of her eye however, the victim staggered up by putting all of their weight on the wall.

"Don't intervene, I have this situation controlled." The victim came to the woman's view. Even slouched and pretty beaten up, she saw that the guy had some height to him. He was also wearing a large white coat that had grown stains and imperfections the woman had guessed that came from the thugs.

"Shut up!" The larger thief threw his fist into the professors gut. He had short, orange hair with dark eyes quickly shut tight in sheer pain as a hiss escaped his teeth.

"Yeah, I can see that." The woman pursed her lips in amusement as she made short work with another goon. When she was finished, another man got up from behind her while the last thug progressed to the woman. Like thunder, his backhand met the side of the woman's cheek. Creating a thunderous clap thanks to the close walls.

"That'll teach ya." The thug boasted in accomplishment. The woman growled not in pain, but in annoyance.

"That'll teach ya." The woman mimicked her voice to sound like the thug. She picked up a lot of things on the street in her time alone, imitating others voices and nerve attacks were quirks but essential on the right days.

In the thugs confusion, the woman got out of the arms of the goon behind her. In two seconds she hit enough nerve endings to make the man crash on his knees. The first one picked up his fallen thief and started to run.

The woman smirked at her victory as she nodded her head. She had never lost a brawl yet, mostly because she would only fight for defensive and emergency purposes. The woman started to walk toward the professor.

"You okay? Name's Maria." The woman introduced herself and extended her hand to help him up. Earning a scowl at the man first, but he thought it over and took her hand.

"Yes, thank you." He coughed to what Maria would put it as, awkward. When he was fully standing, the man was definitely taller than Maria.

"Did you just come from the university?" Maria asked the man with the lab coat and right away got herself a growl in frustration.

"Yes, I was. Those buffoons will rue the day they decided to kick me out!" He gave a little shout as he brushed himself off. Maria continued to stare at him, not because of his weird appearance, but in interest. She definitely wanted to learn more about this man.

"Maybe I can help. What's your name stranger."

"Professor, Jonathan Crane."

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**hazelbite1248: And there you have it, the first of many (hopefully) chapters. And yes, if some of the readers that know me, I did have Maria Romanoff in my TFA trilogy also. She's a good character and I like to bring her into any stories I have. She's my own OC and I am very proud of her. Plus it would be interesting to see what relationship she would have with Scarecrow. Until next time, bye :D**


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